


Second Chance at a First

by Silverlace_Vine



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Anal, Dirty Talk, First Time, M/M, Plot What Plot, Science Boyfriends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-17
Updated: 2012-08-17
Packaged: 2017-11-12 08:48:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/489000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silverlace_Vine/pseuds/Silverlace_Vine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Avengerkink prompt: </p><p>Tony REALLY likes the idea of deflowering Bruce Banner, even if he's not technically a virgin...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Second Chance at a First

"I've had sex before, Tony.  It was a long time ago, but I'm not a virgin."  

"Not _technically_ , no, but you might as well be. I know they say it's just like riding a bike and all, but this isn't just like _not_ having sex, this is being _barred_ from sex.  Can you think back to the first time you ever had the opportunity to get laid, wanted to get laid, and then actually did, in fact, get laid?"

"Yes. I was seventeen, she was a classmate. I went to her house to study, and her parents were out of town."

"Exactly my point. There were rules, there were restrictions you had to get around, you weren't just allowed to have sex if you wanted. That's what it's all about, you know, it's not just inexperience, it's a lack of personal agency. When you throw off the rules that govern what you can't do because it's stopping you from doing what you want to do, because that's what you want to do, even though you only kind of know what you're doing, that's really when you lose it."  Tony pours the last of the chemical compound into the cylinder.  "It's all about telling that internalized audience to shut up for a minute and mind its own business. And that's what this experiment is all about, right?"

"...You may have a point."   Bruce watches Tony stirring the mixture, and already he's got butterflies in his stomach.  If it works, the slightly purple-ish cocktail is supposed to temporarily strengthen his cardiovascular system and lower his blood pressure, significantly lowering his heart rate while raising the threshold for the beats-per-minute that will trigger his Hulking out.  

He can deal with the Hulk.  Mostly because of Tony, he's come to accept the Other Guy, the good he can do for the world; he doesn't really see it as a curse anymore, not like he used to. But the click of the stirrer in the glass vessel is starting to give him a very tentative hope that he can get back a part of his life that the accident took from him. Tony always made it very clear that their relationship didn't _have_ to include sex, but he never made any secret of how badly he _wanted_ it to.

But, the worst part is and has always been the unbearable tension.  Tony's sex appeal never stops, it only changes according to what he's doing;  if he's working, up to his elbows in machine parts and filthy with grease and sweat, he's every bit as sexy as he is when he's dressed to the nines and taking over a crowd with nothing but his own charisma.  Bruce is around him for all the most vulnerable parts of his day, when that sex appeal comes in the form of his tank top riding slightly up the small of his back when he leans over to reach something,  or when he kicks off his shoes and sprawls on the couch after a long day. 

And Bruce wouldn't dare lay a hand on him, because Tony can't so much as kiss him before he can feel his heart start pounding.  That potion he's stirring is going to be his first and last hope to ever have a chance at something more.

He snaps out of it when Tony hands him the cylinder.  "Down the hatch, Big Science."

Bruce has almost drained it before Tony's finished talking.

\--

It kicks in almost immediately, prompting Bruce to excuse himself to his floor to lie down while the changes take place.  The following few hours find him resting peacefully, and alone.

And now Tony is pacing around the lab, because he's sure it's working. All his vital signs are coming up right where they should be:  heart rate and blood pressure slightly lower, oxygenation slightly higher.  Now he just has to decide what to do.

The obvious answer is that he's going to go up to Bruce's bedroom, and they're going to make the kind of love that boring housewives write bad novels about.   Tony has it all laid out in his mind: shower first, because Tony loves the smell of Bruce's soap and he's going to put his mouth _everywhere_ on that body.  And then the bed, because he's going to try every position until he finds the one Bruce likes best-- in his imagination, it's doggy style, with Bruce bent so far down his chest hits the bed and his legs spread whorishly wide-- and fuck him until he's just shy of coming. And then he'll turn him on his back and ride him, so he can watch his face when Bruce comes deep inside him.

Yeah, that's exactly how it'll go. It'll be dirty. It'll be nasty, and filthy, and _awesome_ , and it'll make every porn flick Tony's ever watched look so boring and lifeless he'll never bother with the internet again.

So he takes the elevator up to Bruce's floor, lets himself in, and slips into Bruce's bedroom with only quiet footsteps on the thick carpet.

"Hey."  Tony leans down over Bruce where he lay on the bed.  "The experiment worked. Let me take a shower with you, and we'll--"

Bruce's eyes open slowly, but when they look up and meet Tony's, the plan changes.

Tony's not one for sentiment. Never has been, really; if he needs to express himself, he does it with gifts or gestures, things to show he cares without actually having to say so aloud, but what he's seeing on that face just completely destroys any thoughts he had of wild, merciless fucking: he's sleepy and vulnerable, slowly, slowly waking up out of what was probably a deep, low-blood-pressure sleep.  

"Bruce?  Are you okay?"

"Mm-hm."  Bruce nods a sleepy affirmative, and reaches up to drape an arm across Tony's shoulders.  "I'm good... more than good.  Did it work? I feel like it worked..."

"All signs point to yes," Tony answers softly, and lightly brushes an errant fluff of hair away from Bruce's face. 

"Good.  Kiss me? If you still want to, I mean.."  

Tony hesitates. Like an _idiot_.  Not because he doesn't _want_ to, naturally, but he's been telling himself not to do it for so long that the shock collar attached to the invisible fence he's been imagining around his neck is reminding him he's not supposed to, he's not allowed.

_Holy shit_ , he thinks.   _I'm a goddamn virgin, too_.

Just when Bruce is about to die of fear that Tony somehow changed his mind, Tony shakes his head and slides his hands up to the sides of Bruce's face.  "I still want to.  I just... can you tell me how long it's been, since you were with anybody? Do you even count it anymore?"

"Years," comes the answer, slightly ashamed.  "College, at least, I never really did the casual sex thing and I was always working, so..."

"And you're sure this is what you want?  Because any of us would take you to bed, you know that, right? Natasha thinks you're cute, Clint would totally make that a three-way, too.  Steve would do you right just because it'd be the right thing to do. Hell, Thor would make it his mission in life to rock your world, you'd just have to ask--"

Bruce's face falls, the very faintest beginnings of rejection and hurt setting in his shoulders. "I did this because I wanted _you_ , Tony; did you change your mind?  We don't have to--"

"No, no, it's not that.  Hell yes, I want you,  every time I turn around I want you all over again.  It's just now-- it feels like you're over at my place to study, and my folks are out of town, y'know?"  Tony smiles, apologetically.  "...Thing is, I'm kinda starting to like it."

Bruce returns Tony's smile, and lightly combs his fingers through Tony's hair before he pulls him down for their first kiss.

It's nothing like Tony imagined it, because he's still completely blown away.  Kissing is one of those things that's easy to gloss over when you're mostly focused on something else, like getting the other person naked, or when you're only doing it because it's just polite to kiss someone before you fuck them,  but this is different.

It's so perfect in his head, so obvious that he and Bruce really are the nerdy kids they tend to turn into when they're around each other, if he stops and reminds himself that this is _their_ first kiss, and that Bruce's mouth hasn't been touched by anyone else in forever.  He coaxes Bruce's lips open with a roll of his jaw, something that Bruce obviously hasn't been kissed in long enough to respond to without that split second of mis-timing, and Tony's suddenly hurting-hard in his jeans.

So he takes it slow, touching Bruce only through his clothes, only above the waist, kissing him only on the lips until Bruce gets bold enough to slide his tongue into Tony's mouth.  

When Bruce realizes that Tony-- the horniest bastard in the known universe-- is letting him set the pace, he tugs Tony's shirt up over his head and tosses it aside.  "Don't hold back on me," he breathes, and reaches for Tony's hand to lay it over the middle of his chest.  "Feel? It's fine, I'm fine-- I've wanted you so bad for so long, Tony, please don't make me wait.."

The heartbeat under Tony's palm is pounding hard against the skin, quick, but not stressed. Normal.  So he takes a deep breath and strips them both out of their clothes.  He knows he's going too slow for Bruce's taste, because he can see the way the doctor squirms and moans and tries to get more of his skin under Tony's hands, but that just makes him want to take his time even more.  Bruce is a stupid, horny teenager right now, aching for the attention of someone older, more experienced.  Someone who can give him what he wants without hurting him, without breaking him or using him--

And then Bruce catches the top of Tony's ear in his teeth, just sharp enough to hurt, and outright begs, in the softest, most plaintive murmur he's ever heard,  " _Tony-- please_ , please _fuck me_."

Tony almost loses it just hearing it, but he doesn't have to be told twice;  he reaches over the side of the bed for the lube he left in his pocket, and coats his fingers with what is probably way more than is necessary.

The soft little whimper Bruce makes when Tony slides one finger inside him is something out of Tony's most secret wet dreams, uninitiated but sweet and wanting all the same.  Before very long his breath is coming in slow, deep pulls, his hips rocking shallowly against Tony's fingers sliding in and out of him.  He couldn't possibly be more ready, but Tony keeps it up a little while longer just to watch that anticipation on his face.

When he can't stand it anymore, Tony reaches for a pillow to prop Bruce's hips up.  He tries to be careful and ease his way into him slowly, leaned in close so he can occupy Bruce's mouth with soft, reassuring kisses, but Bruce is just so open and ready that he takes the full length of Tony's cock with nothing but a long, low, deeply satisfied moan.  Tony can't help the dirty talk that just spills out of his mouth, breathed close against Bruce's ear, telling him how good he feels, to just relax, he's so hot and so tight and he'll get everything just how he needs.

He thrusts slowly, and God he wants to fuck Bruce into the mattress, leave him a hollowed-out mess with nothing left in him but Tony's come and what little breath he's got in his lungs, but he can't.  Not while Bruce is clinging to his shoulders, each roll of his hips trying to urge Tony deeper inside while he slides his dripping cock against his stomach, gasping wordless little cries because he can't focus enough to form words anymore.  That's how it should be, the first time: slow and close and hot, the rest of the world forgotten, because you have to be young, you have to be stupid and naive to be _justthisclose_ to coming harder than you ever have in your life, and the only words that can come out of your mouth are--

"--I love you." 

He knows he's fucked up as soon as he says it, but it's too late, and Tony spills so deep inside him he can feel Bruce clench down around his softening cock as his own climax rips through him.  

They collapse on the bed together, coming down from a high that's been years-long in its slow burn.  For a second, Tony hopes Bruce didn't hear him, until one of Bruce's hands lefts go of his shoulder and reaches for his hair.

"...Hey."  Bruce smiles, tired and sweaty but tranquil as a glass lake. Yeah, he heard him. He'd never say it because he knows Tony didn't mean to, but he heard it, and he believes it, and he's smiling like he knows he doesn't have to say it back for Tony to hear it, either.   

Tony leans into the touch, because yeah, he meant it, and he knows that it'll bite him in the ass later, but for now it should be okay.  "Yeah?"

And Bruce winks, the bastard, and suddenly he looks his right age, those light strands of pale gray mixed in with the iron-black of his hair,  intellect dancing in those dark eyes that make it obvious that this is a man with a doctorate and years of field research under his belt, and Tony suddenly feels himself blushing because he's not at all sure who just got deflowered anymore.  

"So," he says, nonchalant as you please, "Think your folks will still be out of town tomorrow?"

 

 


End file.
